Defreeze
by Sillycritter
Summary: Rick's saved Morty time and again, but this time, it's Rick who needs saving. Takes place right after "Auto Erotic Assimilation", 2x3. Triggers: Suicidal Ideation/Actions. Reviews & Feedback are Always Welcome and Appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Rick and Morty.

 **Spoilers:** "Auto Erotic Assimilation", 2x3

 **Summary:** Just one way that ending could have gone, after the credits rolled...

 **Warning:** Dark themes: Content contains attempted suicide.

 **Author's Note:** Constructive criticism is always welcome. (Characters in character? Can anything be changed to be better, fit the story in canon, ect.?) (Thanks in advance!) :) Also, I have researched for this story, but if you have any personal inputs (without getting too personal of course), I'd love to hear them. I want this story to be informative, so that people know what to do in this kind of situation. Since this is is a very sensitive and critically important topic that has the potential for saving lives, I want to be as accurate as possible. That being said, I'm no expert. I'm just relaying what I've read thus far.

 **CHAPTER ONE**

Usually the door to the garage was open when Morty got home from school. Today, however, the garage door was closed, so Morty had to enter by way of the door with the "Knock First" sign on it. Of course he never knocked, but Rick never bothered him about it.

Rick was sleeping at his work station. Wait...what? Rick never _slept_ at his workstation. He was always _working_ at his workstation. And what was that...yellow stuff, that was leaking from his lips, and pooling on the tabletop?

"Uh….Rick?" Morty cautiously approached his grandfather, and poked him. To his horror, Rick slumped over further, and the yellow liquid began to create a foam.

"Oh, my God! _Rick?"_ Morty backed away immediately with terror. Had Rick passed out again from too much alcohol? Was he just sleeping it off? _Or was he_...Morty shook his head against the thought, and quickly shook Rick's shoulder. Again, there was no response, and it was beginning to dawn on Morty that something was horrifically, terribly wrong.

"R-Rick? You okay, man?" Dread pooling in his chest, Morty quickly felt for a pulse. To his relief, it was there. Faint, and barely fluttering, but there...though Rick's skin was clammy-cold, and there was hardly any sign of breath. And his lips were turning blue. "Oh dear God R-Rick, what did you do to yourself, Rick?"

Morty's head was spinning. His Dad was out golfing; his mom was at work; neither one of them kept their cell phones on (something Morty didn't understand at all) and Summer was probably at the mall and wouldn't want to be bothered. He knew he had to do something Rick would hate him for later: call 911. He ran to the kitchen and snatched up the phone.

"Hello, 911, how may I help you?" asked the operator on the line.

"Uhhh…" Morty's head spun and his stomach ached with fear and dread. He'd never done this before. What should he say? "M-m-my grandpa won't wake up, uh, I think he t-t-took some-something but I'm not sure what, uh, he drinks a lot-" Morty heard his voice crack as he spoke and forced himself to add, "There's some y-yellow liquid type stuff on his mouth and, uh, I-I-I- uh th-think he's in a c-c-coma." _Dammit Morty be a man. Do NOT lose your shit right now. Rick needs you, dammit! Be a man!_

"Okay, son, do you know how much he took, or when he took it? Are your parents at home?"

"N-no," Morty felt himself faltering, "My, um, uh, Mom's at work, and D-Dad's out golfing...I think?" _Dammit Morty you sound like an idiot._

He tried to listen as the operator told him the do's and don'ts: _Don't put him in the shower, he might go into shock, and this could kill him; Make sure he's sitting upright or lying on his side; Don't force him to vomit; Ifhe wakes up don't give him anything;Keep constant track of his vital signs…Make sure you have any empty pill bottles or anything that signifies what he's taken...Keep his head tilted backwards and chin upright so that his airway passages remain clear….Remain calm, because if he wakes up, he'll need you to be there for him..._

Morty dropped the phone to the floor and ran back to the garage, trying to ignore the bitter laughter rising in his throat. _Rick never needed me before this...at least somehow I'm helping him._ Fighting back tears he pulled Rick up to a sitting position. Morty cringed and winced inwardly as Rick's head lilted lightly to the side, and he gently positioned it against the back of the chair to ensure a comfortable position. The yellow spittle had dried on his chin, and his mouth was slightly open. Morty held his hand abruptly in front of Rick's lips. A whisp of air brushed his palm, but just a whisp. "Oh my G-God, Grandpa Rick…." Morty shuddered and sank to his knees on the floor. Shaking uncontrollably, he bound his arms tightly around his grandfather's knees as he felt the world come crashing in. Maybe this was it. Maybe this was the end of all their crazy new adventures. Maybe he would fail at this too, just like he did at everything else.

Suddenly the doorbell rang. Relief flooded Morty as he ran to the door. Two EMTs were waiting there with equipment. "Where is your grandfather, son?" one of them asked. Morty lead them immediately to the garage. Feeling as though he were in a dream, Morty stood by and watched as the EMTs work carefully on Rick, before easing him gently onto a stretcher, and supplying oxygen to him as they quickly wheeled him out to the street where the ambulance was waiting.

Morty watched silently as they lifted Rick, face ashen and as still as a corpse, into the ambulance, and didn't even realize that Summer was standing next to him, watching the whole thing go down, until she spoke, making him jump: "What? Wait-are you kidding me? Is that Grandpa Rick? Oh my God, Morty! What-Why in God's name are they putting him in an _ambulance_? What the hell _happened_? _Morty!_ Why won't you talk to me?" She was shaking him, roughly, and he still couldn't answer.

"Morty? What the hell? Are you okay? What the hell happened to Grandpa Rick?"

"Oh my God, S-s-Summer!" Suddenly he came to and Summer was standing there right in front of him, wide-eyed with alarm. "Oh man, I...am I ever so glad that you're home!" Relieved like never before, he hugged his sister tight, like it was the end of the world (much to her shock and disgust), but she let him nonetheless. She was even more alarmed when she pulled away from her brother to find him close to tears.

"Morty, what-"

"C-come with me Summer, _please_...I _gotta_ go with him," Morty said instead in response, as he rushed off immediately to join Rick's side in the ambulance.

"Uh...okay, alright, I'm coming," Summer awkwardly agreed, as she joined her younger brother in the ambulance, which sped off for the hospital. Morty held his breath and shut his eyes, trying not to think about where he was and where they were going. He really wasn't one to pray, but he hoped they'd get to the hospital in time.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own "Rick and Morty".

 **Author's Note:** This chapter considered a bit of research. If I have any medical stuff that could be corrected, and you are a Nurse or a Doctor who knows for certain what happens in this kind of situation, please let me know and I will correct and edit this "Author's Note". Otherwise, Please let me know if the characters are true to themselves. (If not, how could they be changed in the future?) Thanks for reading and providing feedback if you already have, and as well as for those that will in the future; it is always much appreciated. This was not an easy chapter to write as this is a very unusual situation for anyone to be in (and probably wouldn't ever be seen on the show). However, this is a very challenging story, which takes the characters extremely out of their comfort zones, and it is one I have been wanting to explore.

 **Warning:** Contains references to suicide, and severe alcoholism.

 **Spoilers:** "Auto-Erotic Assimilation", Season 2, Episode 3

 **CHAPTER 2**

It was strange, but Morty was actually glad to have his sister around for once. Her being there with him, as they waited in the otherwise empty lobby for their parents to arrive, showed that she- _maybe?_ -really did care.

The best part was that Summer somehow knew he didn't want to talk about what was happening to Rick. She just sat there and kept him company. That was enough for Morty. He couldn't imagine going through all this by himself. What would he do if Rick didn't make it? He couldn't bare to think of the alternative. It just wasn't possible. Rick had stood up to creatures he'd never knew could exist and survived. Something as stupid as too much alcohol couldn't kill him...could it?

"Mom! Dad!" Summer's relief spoke for the both of them as they saw Beth and Jerry running towards them down the hall.

Morty usually hated getting hugged in public, but this was different. He let his mom give him a hug. Her mascara was smeared all over her face. She was crying. It hurt. Stung him, someplace deep inside. He wanted to pull away and forget that all of this was happening. He wasn't going to cry. Not here. Not now. Not ever. He was dead inside.

"What in the hell happened?" Jerry looked awestruck to be in the hospital. He kept looking around in a daze, before turning to face his son. "Are you okay, Morty?" He was holding Morty by the shoulders but Morty wouldn't face him. "Please, son, please tell us what happened."

"Un...er...he was passed out and….I dunno...I had to do something, he wasn't moving when I shook him s-s-s-so I called 911. I-he wasn't _moving_. I didn't know what else to _do_ , Dad-" Morty didn't realize he was shivering until his father held him close, and Morty suddenly realized he missed being held. His father hadn't hugged him like this since he was a little kid. His father spoke soothing words, tousling his hair, telling him, "It's okay son, you did the right thing."

The right thing. Morty shuddered and bit his lip, wincing as he drew blood. The tears solidified in his throat. He wanted to go find a bathroom and empty his stomach. But there was nothing to empty. He hadn't eaten lunch that day. He'd been too worried about his math test. That was when life was easier, Morty knew now; that was when it was okay to talk about your problems.

Footsteps echoing in the hallway drew nearer, and Morty felt his father's hands loosen as they all stood and found a young doctor with rusty-colored hair walking towards them. He was so young, Morty wondered if he'd just gotten out of medical school; this was the guy who was going to take care of Rick?

"Are you the Smiths?" asked the Doctor. "A Morty Smith signed for Mr. Rick Sanchez. Which one of you is Morty Smith?"

Timidly Morty raised his hand. "I'm him."

"You got your grandfather here just in time son," the doctor appraised him, and Morty felt the knot loosen a bit with relief. ( _Thank Goodness-Rick was alive!_ ) "Any more time and he might not be with us."

"What happened to him?" Beth choked out tearfully. "Is he going to be okay?"

"Acute alcohol poisoning is the official diagnosis," the doctor explained brusquely, "his BAC, or blood alcohol level, was through the roof when he got here-"

"That son-of-a-b!tch," Jerry whispered through clenched teeth, "I'm gonna kill him!"

"-It appears he ingested some strange yellow chemical as well, and, uh, we're still trying to identify what that is. He also took some narcotics."

"What the hell," Jerry seethed. "He's gone completely bananas-"

"Shut up Jerry!" Beth snapped through clenched teeth. "You're making it worse!"

"There's still a ways to go but we've gotten Mr. Sanchez stable with fluids and are in the process of removing the toxic substances from his system. We pumped his stomach to get rid of the narcotics and are removing the alcohol through a tracheal tube."

"Oh my God-Dad," Beth whimpered and started to cry.

"The tracheal tube will be removed soon," the doctor added at the first sight of tears. "He will need to be monitored for at least 24 hours under hospital supervision. I suggest you let him rest and come back tomorrow. He is sedated right now as he was very aggressive on the ride over here."

"Oh great," Jerry snapped, "I see a lawsuit coming on."

"He didn't hurt anyone, Mr. Smith," Dr. Stark replied in a gentle tone, "there's no need to worry; nobody's asking for lawyers. You'll be just fine."

Morty cringed at that, wondering what his father would think if he had been there to witness Rick attempting to drunkenly fight off two EMTs as they struggled to strap him back down to the stretcher. They had finally managed to sedate him before the ambulance pulled into the hospital's entranceway, but only after Rick had managed to leave two shirts soaked with vomit, as well as possibly permanent scars and at least one black eye.

"We've got him covered for tonight. There's really nothing to do right now except let time run its course. If all goes well, he should be recovered enough to have visitors soon and can probably go home in a day or so." Then, the doctor suddenly turned serious. "Mr. Smith, why don't you take your children home? They've had quite a rough evening. Mrs. Sanchez, before you all leave, I'd like to ask you a few questions."

"I'll be okay, Jerry," Beth nodded in return to her husband's concerned and questioning eyes. "You call a cab and take the kids home."

"Are….are you sure...Beth?" Jerry looked like he had a few questions himself.

"Yes," Beth nodded, wiping her eyes and standing with a determined look on her face. "I'll be just fine."

"But Mom-" Summer started to protest.

"Go home, honey, it's okay," Beth insisted.

Morty tried not to listen to the doctor's words as he followed his father and sister too quickly out the door. "Now tell me, Mrs. Smith...does your father have a history of depression?"

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That night, Morty had a dream.

In the dream, he was swimming through the endless void of space. Cats of all different kinds were everywhere. Spinning and floating through the endless universe full of debris. He knew this was the end. There was nobody coming to save him. There was no Rick. There was no God. "I'm okay with this." He said the words to no one, knowing no one would answer. He shut his eyes tightly, resigned to the endless infinity of nothingness. "Be better than me, Morty," he spoke to the void.

 _Be better than me._

With a start, Morty woke, gasping and shivering, nearly completely covered in his own sweat. With a shudder he remembered the sacrifices. All those Morties whose collars hadn't worked. He wasn't just dreaming this time. He was speaking as Rick.

Morty threw off his bed covers and walked as fast as his feet would allow without causing the floorboards to creak down the hallway to his sisters room.

"Eeek! Morty, what the hell, it's...whaaa...what _time_ is it?!" If there was one major thing Sumer hated besides people who didn't appreciate her wardrobe, it was people who woke her up out of a good sleep. And after days like today she sorely needed it. The only thing that made it even worse was her brother, looking down at her, shivering and clutching his stomach, his face contorted by shadows in the darkness of her bedroom. "Morty!" she snapped, "what are you doing in here? Don't you know what time it is?! I need my beauty rest!"

"I-I-I-" Morty's teeth clashed against each other. He felt feverish. He needed to sit down, and he knew Summer hated him sitting on her bed.

"Morty…." Summer turned the lamp on and the look on her brother's face left her speechless. "Morty...what the hell?"

"Summer…" Morty sank on to the bed and buried his face in his hands.

"What, Morty?" Summer, to his surprise, had placed a hand on his back. "What is it?" _She never touched me...ever….only to kick me or slap me. Never like this._

Morty felt a shudder rush through him and he hugged his knees tight. "I...I don't think what happened was an accident, Summer…" He couldn't look her in the eyes, but somehow, in the silence, he knew at once she understood.

After a moment, she confirmed his suspicions. "I know, Morty," said Summer softly, and there was a sadness in her voice that he'd never heard before. She let her hand drop from his shoulder to take hold of his hand. Morty was never more grateful for human contact as he was at that moment, as they both stared out into the shadows beyond the light that the lamp provided. "I know."


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I don't own "Rick and Morty".

 **Author's Note:** I was inspired for part of this chapter by the beginning of the first episode. See if you can spot where. Hope Rick is in character albeit a bit….uh...well...you'll see. Enjoy.

It was nighttime, and everyone was sleeping.

For once in his life, Jerry was having a blissfully wonderful dream. In the dreamworld, he was CEO of a multi-million dollar advertising company that would have knocked the socks of any Don Draper bar-none. They had just sealed a deal with several Fortune 500s including Apple and GE. His golfing score was through the roof and he was on the front page of every single sports magazine in the US of A. Beth was super-proud of him and didn't mind there being a horde of young ladies catering to his every whim.

Of course, he was Jerry, and just when everything was going well for him, something was bound to go wrong. That something happened to be one of his women, in the middle of sex, pulling a knife on him and screaming, "WHERE IN THE FLIPPING FLYING F*** did you PUT MY BOOZE, B!TCH?!"

It was when he found himself choking that Jerry snapped out of it and woke up:

to see Rick's red, fuming and menacing face towering over him, looking ready to consume and devour him limb-by-limb if he didn't answer. He could barely breath because Rick's hand was at his throat and a razor-sharp knife was pointed at his gut. Jerry did the only thing Jerry knew what to do in such an absurd situation: which was to let out a blood-curdling scream. The scream woke up Beth, who screamed in tandem, and Jerry felt the hold on his collar tightening with every yelp that escaped him.

As Beth kept screaming without end, Jerry shut his eyes tight and began to do something he only did in moments like this: Jerry started to pray. _Oh my dear God please help me this is just a dream just a dream he's not really here just a dream-_

"WHERE," his captor seethed, spit spraying from each side of his mouth like a rabid animal, eyes bloodshot and body heaving, "THE-F***-did you put my MOTHAF*N BOOZE, BITCH?! Where-in-The-Godforsaken F*** did you PUT IT _you-you-you_ -you _useless_ microcosmic MORON!?"

The pain was real. Oh, it was real. Jerry had to bite his lip to keep himself from screaming. Only it couldn't be. Rick was a madman, for sure, but this-this was plain insanity. He wasn't even supposed to _be_ there. He was supposed to be at the hospital for Chrissakes. It had only been a day. Trembling uncontrollably and swallowing hard, Jerry faced the wild-eyed man who nearly had in him in a choke-hold, knife pointed at his throat, chest heaving with determination to kill.

"WHAT in the HELL IS HAPPENING?!" Beth was screaming hysterically. "OMG, WHAT IS _HAPPENING!? OMG!_ OMG! OMG!"

Immediately Jerry snaked his hand, undetected, under the bed and quickly took his wife's hand, silencing her at once with his firm grip and stern and steady stare. With a strength he didn't know he had, he slowly faced his (Father-in-law!?) *ahem* assailant, trying his best to remain calm, in spite of the situation. "R-Rick," he managed to blurt "I will get you what you want. But you have to get off me. And put that- _thing_ -away. Now."

Rick's expression, at first filled with a fury unbeknownst to man, did not change, and he refused to release his death grip on the knife. Jerry's mind raced, trying to think of all possible outcomes, but he was still in dream-state and his mind moved like a slug. He was about to try to distract Rick somehow when the door burst open, flooding the room with light. "Mom? Dad? What the hell-" Summer stopped at the sight of Rick holding his father down, and screamed as her father, taking advantage of Rick's turned head, managed somehow to snake the knife out of Rick's hand before subsequently punching him out cold.

"Dad…?" Summer was trembling, as well as Beth, and Jerry, groaning, pulled himself out from under Rick's pinning weight. "What in the world is he doing here? OMG Grandpa Rick!" she gasped at the sight of her grandfather (passed out) on the bed. "But what-wait-Isn't he-" She questioned her father with puzzled eyes, trying to absorb what was taking place in front of her.

"Yeah-I know-in the hospital. We get it." Jerry took a weeping Beth into his arms, trying his best to comfort her, knowing there wouldn't be much comfort tonight. Wish I could tell you why this crazy lunatic is in my room at three in the morning and holding a goddamned knife to my throat. and good God does he stink!"

"Oh my God Dad….why Dad…" Beth was inconsolable. "He shouldn't be here, Jerry. We've got to call the hospital."

"How about the cops?" Jerry snapped, then softened when he saw the tears streaming down his wife's cheeks. "Okay...okay...why don't we just let him sleep it off for now...and we'll call them in the morning."

"Where are we going to sleep?" Beth couldn't seem to stop shaking. Her father lay in a haphazard heap at the foot of their bed, but Jerry wasn't planning on fixing his pillows. His eye had already started to swell from where Jerry had punched him and she was tempted to find an ice pack, but she dreaded him waking up if she did.

"Dad I can't believe this, this is so cray-cray! I mean _what_ in the hell is wrong with Grandpa Rick? Why was he trying to, like, kill you?" Summer helped her father up and took him by the arm down the hall to the kitchen.

"Who knows? The man's clearly lost his marbles," Jerry shrugged. "We'll have to get Rick back to the hospital in the morning. Good thing Morty is a heavy sleeper."

What they didn't know was that Morty wasn't sleeping. Instead he was staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. He'd heard his father and sister talking, but it didn't make any sense. Rick was home? Something about killing someone? Why would he be home? He couldn't be. He'd probably misheard the whole thing. Morty was too exhausted from it all to care. Rick would never thank him anyway. He tried to stay awake longer to see if he could hear anything else, but his eyelids started to droop, betraying him. He was already asleep when his father opened the door a crack to check on him, and left it that way so that the light could come in.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Who would have known such a hot girl like Jessica would fall for such a lowly nerd like him? Morty had known Jessica was his dream girl, but this-this was even better! It all happened at the Fall dance, when she asked him to do the slow-dance with her, and even though he wasn't any good at dancing, she didn't laugh, not even once. They went on several dates after that, and each time it got easier and easier to be himself with her. They went to the movies, the park, and sometimes she even took him back to her house, where they kissed on her bed, and he knew he'd never wash his face again. Things like Jessica helped Morty forget his troubles. Things like Jessica reminded him he wasn't so "special".

Things were going great. Rick even took them on an intergalactic trip to Blips and Chips and then for ice-cream and a movie. It was all going so well.

"Morty," Jessica said as they walked the long way home, "I'm so glad I got to meet you."

"Oh, uh, me, too, Jessica." Morty didn't even bother to hide his blush. "Thanks for going to the movies with me and...uh...you know." He wanted to kiss her so badly but he knew not to rush things. There was a time and place.

"We should go again soon," Jessica smiled at him shyly, and he loved how innocent she sounded just then, and he gulped and quaked with a strange combination of both nervousness and pride as he added, "Yeah! We should, ya know, like...go steady," and he blushed profusely again as she reached out his hand for his and-

SLAP!

"OW!" Morty groaned, writhing in pain and holding his stinging cheek as his dream world melted into cold reality: and there was Rick-(Rick?!)-hovering menacingly over him, a glob of his drool splatting right onto Morty's left eye. Morty grimaced and groaned as he wiped off the thick slime. "Wh-what the hell! Wh-wh-wh-what the-"

"Now just l-listen up you li-little gu-gutless runt," Rick's voice rasped from above him, "y-you're c-c-coming with me, s-s-s-so you better just get your b-b-badass butt outta d-d-d-doAUGHdge and le-le-let's g-g-g-get the hell OUT!"

Morty tried to protest but an overwhelming smell assaulted him. "UGH! Wh-what the h-hell man! Wh-What did a ga- _garbage dump_ throw up on you?!"

Another slap threw Morty tumbling out of the bed, straight to the floor, where he had to remain on all fours for a second before he found his bearings. He would have too if, seconds later, his arm hadn't found itself in a vice grip, and his body hadn't gotten yanked aimlessly across the floor as if he was a ragdoll.

It suddenly dawned on Morty what was happening. It was Rick-Rick, who was dragging him God-knows-where, like he always did, dragging him (literally) out of bed at 3 or 4 or 5 in the morning, didn't matter if it was the weekend or a school night-except he _shouldn't_ be-Rick was supposed to be in the hospital-except-here he was. In spite of his body taking a beating, and the whole of his surroundings spinning every which way, Morty somehow found enough strength to slur out, "RICK! STOP! L-LET G-GO of ME!"

"Th-this is for your own good, M-Mmmm _OR_ ty," came the heavily slurred reply, and Morty suddenly feared for his life as he was getting tossed in all directions down the hall towards the garage, "y-yoUGHyou put u-us into thiUGHs mess, and n-nOUGH you're g-gonna be the OUNGH to geUGHt us out!"

"R-RICK! Let GO" Morty screamed, but it was no use; Rick was on a mission. Before he knew what was happening, Rick had pulled him to his feet before shoving him forcefully into the garage. Light flooded the room instantly, momentarily blinding him.

"R-r-r- _Riiiick_ -!"

"Shut up you little ingRUGHate and get get the hell in."

"What? You're CRAZY! To hell I won't, Rick!" With all his might, Morty, with a strength he didn't even know he had, somehow managed to shove his grandfather away, but Rick, without a word, merely shoved him back, propelling him backwards in the direction of the space car. Before Morty knew what was happening, he was on the other side of the dome-shaped glass, and no matter how hard he tried, the button for opening the car door wouldn't work. He was trapped! Rick had locked him inside!

"RICK!" He scrambled to his feet, pressing his face up against the cold hard glass. _Oh God no, God please this isn't happening. "RICK!"_ Morty banged on the glass as Rick merely stood there, giving him a dead-eyed stare. "LET ME OUT! RICK! _NOW!_ I MEAN IT! RICK! WHA-" Gasping with horror, Morty looked down. Something had taken hold of his middle-a metal clasp of some kind-and it had bound itself to his waist. Morty shrieked with terror as the metal contraption lifted him up, slightly, before dropping him swiftly into the passenger seat. Immediately he was strapped in by heavy metal restraints. "RICK!" Morty yelled, unable to mask his unabashed fear, "RICK! L-lemme OUTTA this thing! Wh-what the hell IS this RICK!? RICK!"

There was a sudden clang to his right and, to his relief, the door swung open and there was his parents. Jerry held a bat, glaring wickedly at Rick, and Beth clung to her husband, tears streaming down her face, shell-shocked by the sight before them: her father, one foot in the door of the ship, her son locked into his seat like a prisoner.

" _Dad_!?" Beth gulped out with sheer horror.

"STOP IT right there!" Jerry bellowed, holding the bat at the ready.

He was met with a dry chuckling snort and an ugly, twisted sneer. "Or _what_ , JER-ry?" Rick drawled with disdain, "you'll beat me with that BASEBALL BAT? You'll sic the big bad coppers on me? Oooo, look at me, now, I'm shakin in my boots!" With a dull shake of the head in disgust, he abruptly turned to step into the car.

"Don't do this." Jerry's voice halted, and Rick froze mid-step. He could hear Morty's whimpering, and Beth's quiet sobbing, and he could hear the desperation in Jerry's hushed demand.

"Dad...please," Beth whispered through her tears, "Let Morty go."

"Please listen to her Rick!" Morty was pushing him now. "P-please…"

"Dad," Beth urged tearfully, "let us help! Don't go! Please! Leave Morty with us! We'll give you anything you want! We're just trying to help you-"

Rick cringed in spite of himself at his daughter's innocent offer. (Anything _he wanted?_ If only she knew…..) He placed his hand slowly on the car door.

"Rick: I'm warning you." Jerry dared to continue in spite of Rick's refusal to turn around and face him like a man, "you do this...and…." Jerry took a deep breath before adding firmly the declaration, "and….you won't be allowed back in our home."

"HA!" A bitter laugh escaped Rick as he choked out a heavy chortle amusement. "Is that your idea of tit-for-tat JERRY? Well-then Goodbye and Good riddance," he added thickly before jumping in, resealing the opening just as quick.

"RICK! W-WAIT a second RICK! _RICK_!" Morty shouted desperately, but his plea was met with deaf ears. Without a glance at either onlooker Rick had turned on the ignition, and the ship had already lifted, and they were taking off into the night.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer:** I don't own "Rick and Morty".

 **Author's Note:** A scene from this was inspired by a scene in Season 2's episode "Get Schwifty". I had planned something like this before watching the Season 2 Finale, so, if you've seen the Finale, you might see why it was kind of hard to write. I had to do it though...Thanks for all my readers, I appreciate each and every one of you! Hope you like where this is going! (And, as usual, if anyone seems out of character, or something doesn't work for you, please kindly let me know; it's how we improve as writers and as people in everyday life.) Happy readings! Cheers!

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 **...Somewhere in Space...**

Morty had seen a lot of shit, and been scared plenty of times, but he had never felt quite as terrified as he did in this very moment. The look on Rick's face was one he'd never seen before. It was a strange mixture of crazed and calm, of determination and resignation, and Morty suddenly realized that his life might actually be in danger, and that the very source of that danger was the person he trusted most in the entire world.

"Rick! What the h-h-h- _hell_ , Man!" Morty's stutter always got worse when he was scared, and right now, he was petrified. He was trapped in this metal contraption, and it didn't seem like Rick was even aware that he was there at all. Rick's eyes, half glazed over, half bloodshot, were focused dead-center ahead of them, and while he had a white-knuckled grip on the wheel, his wrists were shaking every few seconds, and the ship wobbled along with them, turning Morty's stomach inside and out. "L-let me outta this thing, Rick, and turn us the heck around! N-n-n- _NOW_!"

Rick didn't answer him, and Morty shut his eyes, trying hard not to hyperventilate. The ship was weaving back and forth, and he was almost certain he might vomit if this continued. "RICK! We g-g-gotta go back! M-my parents think you _kidnapped_ me, Rick!" Morty was not only terrified of Rick's complete apathy towards the situation, but he was also seething with anger as well. What could Rick possibly be thinking, forcing him into all this-it was the middle of the night, for Chrissakes-and scaring his poor parents to death like that? "W-w-what the hell is wrong with you Rick? They th-think that you lost your mind or something! Y-y-you're not even supposed to be here, you're supposed to be at the hospital, y-y-you almost died! Th-th-they think you kidnapped me and-"

" _Newsflash_ , Morty." Rick turned vacant eyes towards him, his mouth a thin firm line devoid of drool. "I _did_ kidnap you. And I _may_ be losing my mind. But you know what M-Morty? None of that matters now. Because you're going to do what I tell you to do. You're going to listen up r-reaaaal good now, M-Morty! I'm going to let you ou-outta that thing, and you're gonna grab me some booze from the back of this ship, and we're gonna get the f*** outta here-and we're n-not going back."

Morty gaped at Rick, utterly dumbfounded, barely able to comprehend what Rick had just announced; never before had he heard Rick's voice so calm and burpless. "W-what? That's crazy! W-we have to go back, Rick! Th-this is _nuts_!"

"Morty," Rick slowly turned back to face his grandson, blinking once, then twice, as slow as a turtle, and this time Morty could see how drained of color his grandfather's face was. He might as well have been a ghost. "You're gonna listen up, Morty," his grandfather declared, "and you're gonna do what I say and no complaints, because if you disrespect me one more time, you're gonna stay in there for a long long time. Now, I'm gonna take off those restraints, and you're g-gonna go back there, and you're gonna see a hatch. Now listen carefully, inside that hatch, is my emergency stash. You're gonna get me a handful of bottles from that stash Morty, and then eeeeverything will be just _fine_ and dandy, okay, there, Morty?"

Morty pursed his lips together with frustration. The metal clamps were beginning to dig into his wrists, and he was so fatigued from the whole ordeal that the idea of getting up and doing anything might as well have been a pipe dream. He glowered at his captor and declared in a low, firm voice, as fierce as he could muster: " _NO_ Rick….I'm. Not. Doing. It."

A heavy silence pervaded the cabin, during which Rick's lips seemed to disappear altogether. They were speeding along at a faster pace, and Morty was beginning to seriously doubt whether there was any sanity left in Rick's already psychotic brain. Maybe if he pretended to get the booze, then somehow commandeer the ship? (It was pretty risky; he might have to even punch Rick out first.)

"OK, listen up you little shit," Rick snapped, "You're not gonna play fair? Ok, well, then neither am I. You have at least sixty seconds to change your mind. See that planet over there? See how close we are?"

Morty could see a lush planet to their right, at which the ship was slowly turning its nose to face towards directly. His stomach dropped as a feeling of utter dread took hold. Something was coming and he definitely was not going to like it. Seconds later two more restraints clamped tightly around his ankles, and Morty cried out in pain as Rick pressed a button on the dashboard, before sitting back idly into his chair, placing his hands comfortably behind his head.

"That's our mark, Morty. All you gotta do is say the word, and get my booze, and I'll let you go, got it? You have sixty seconds to change your mind. Ready-set-GO!"

Like a train veering out of control, the ship was suddenly in overdrive, spiraling through space towards the planet Rick had set as their destination, and Morty was seeing his entire life flashing before his eyes: his unearned diploma, his unwed wife, his unborn children….he was the new Roy, except the game was his life, and he'd already played the game, except this time there was no rules, and they were about to make impact in

"T-minus 10 seconds Morty!" Rick was shouting above the unrestrained, almost deafening roar of the engine, the emergency alarms beeping and sending bright red flashing lights spinning in circles, leaving spots on Morty's vision, "it's now or never, Morty! What's it gonna be!?"

Morty shut his eyes and braced himself for impact.

"Five!" Rick was crowing like a delighted child on Christmas morn, " _Four_! Three Two….ONE!"

Morty's hands flew above his head and everything turned to black.

XXXXXXXX

He could move.

This was the first thought that sparked in Morty's brain: he could actually _move,_ and that hadn't been the case before. Why? He couldn't really remember; something had kept his legs and arms and body rigid in their position for...how long? He couldn't recall that either. Was he alone? Maybe he should see if his lips could move. "Sssss…." He wanted to shout " _Somebody please help_ ," but the words just wouldn't come out. His whole body ached, and he couldn't see straight; everything was just a blend of different shades of color wherever he looked. He felt something hard under his back (dirt?); he felt cold metal against his skin. Smoke from an unknown source filled his lungs, causing him to hack and wheeze. He knew he shouldn't try to move, because whenever he managed to move a muscle, pain shot instantaneously in all directions, leaving him immediately spent from exhursion.

So he lay there, letting his chest struggle to breath, noises from unknown sources leaving his ears and his head both ringing, wondering if he was alone….or worse, completely and utterly all by himself.

 _RICK_! The thought finally came to him with a desperate urgency as he remembered suddenly, albeit vaguely, that he had been in the spaceship with Rick last he could recall. The visions weren't clear by any means; they sputtered and spit, and he could hardly remember Rick saying where they were going, or why they were there. "R-r-r-rrrrr…." Talking was useless, and his head fell back against...whatever he was lying on. His chest was caving with each haggard breath; he was panicking, and that was dangerous; he mustn't panic, because if he did, it might be his last dying breath.

He was outside. The realization hit him as he felt the sun's hot beams baking his battered skin. He fought to slow his breathing, struggled to welcome the warmth of the sun as his fingers spread out against the soft dirt and grass where he lay, and tears of anguish and frustration leaked from Morty's eyes. _Where in the heck was Rick….when he needed him most?_

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Back on Earth, Beth was having a panic attack of her own, within good reason: her father had just kidnapped her son, and they were now running off to God-knows-where, and there was no telling what state her father could possibly be in. She paced back and forth between drinks straight from the bottle, trying desperately to ignore the worried faces of both Jerry and now Summer (who was now awake due to the chaos of the whole unfortunate ordeal).

" _Mom_!" Summer pleaded, trying to stand in front of her mother to get her attention (Beth was having none of it, and kept right on pacing) Summer persisted. "Just-chill-okay!" Summer demanded, stamping her foot with fists clenched in protest, "Grandpa Rick wouldn't do anything to hurt Morty! He'll bring him back! Okay?"

"NO it's _not_ okay!" Beth screamed to her daughter and, to both Summer and Jerry's bewilderment, burst again into tears, the wine bottle slipping from her hand to the floor and shattering in a dozen pieces, the wine splashing everywhere. "Ohhhh...oh God what have I done?" Beth whimpered, crouching down towards the glass. "Oh….Dad….what did you _do_?"

"Beth! Get away from there! You'll cut yourself!" Jerry crouched down next to her and clasped her hand, yanking her upwards.

"I can handle sharp objects Jerry!" Beth snapped with unusual rage, "I'm a surgeon, remember?!"

Jerry held his hands up in a truce. "Okay, okay! Forget it, honey, I was only trying to help you-"

"I can't believe you told him he couldn't come back!" Beth, hands trembling, moved to get a dustpan and broom. "Now he's taken Morty and I have no idea where they've gone to, or if they're ever coming back at all-" She bent to start sweeping up the glass, but even that task took too much out of her and she slumped backwards against the cabinet doors. "Here," Beth, resigned, held the dustpan and broom up towards her unusually quiet husband. "You do it….I'm done."

"Mom?" Summer questioned, as her mother swiped a tissue from the counter, dabbing at her eyes as she walked briskly out of the kitchen without an answer.

"She'll...be okay," Jerry reasoned, placing a reassuring hand on his daughter's shoulder. "They'll come back." He paused for a second, and Summer could tell he was worried as he added haltingly, "right…?"

Summer winced at the question. She hoped that, for once, her father was right.

Together they helped clean up the mess.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Morty must have slept a thousand years, but he didn't feel at all rested from it. The sun was making him sleepier still, and he was almost certain he tasted blood on his tongue. How long had he been lying like this? Hours? Days? Weeks maybe, even?

Suddenly, the heat had disappeared-it was as though even the sun had left him, too-and Morty shivered in the damp coolness that replaced it. It was as though a shadow had blocked out the sun, looming over him like a giant. This is it, Morty thought; this is how I am going to die….

He was ready. He looked up at the shadow above. "Take me," he whispered, and closed his eyes.

To his amazement, Death spoke: and to his surprise, its voice was soft and gentle, almost...warm, like a soothing cloth on his forehead his mom used when he was ill.

"I can see that you are in immense pain and have suffered greatly," the voice said in a calm and authoritative manner. "Do not be afraid." He felt a hand on his pulse, a warm smooth finger, and Morty almost wept at such a human touch. (Could Death really be so kind?)

"There is not much time," the voice continued, and suddenly he was being lifted, and held against soft skin and….feathers? Were angels real? "You will both be in my care for now." The voice continued to speak, but he couldn't understand what the voice was saying-and suddenly he felt himself rising faster, and faster, and almost felt himself falling down at the same time. He was flying...flying amongst the clouds...the soft pillow-like feathers cradled against his skin lulling him to sleep, like the memory of lullabies from a distant dream that, try though he might, he could never remember.


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer:** I don't own "Rick and Morty".

 **Author's Note:** Thanks so much for your support! Keep those reviews a-comin'! Anything feel out of place, please let me know….thanks everyone! Cheers!

A moist cloth on his forehead; some kind of strange substance being spoonfed into his mouth; his arms and legs and face still stinging from antiseptic ointment was how Morty finally woke from fever dreams a few days later.

His eyes might have been open, but he wasn't fully awake. Several times he felt someone stroking his head and singing softly to him, in a language he didn't know; twice he heard himself calling "Mom...?" in a voice so weak and vulnerable that he didn't recognize it as his very own.

He couldn't see properly; the world was a blur of sensations, and his body was full of pain. Pain was mostly what he would focus on the first few days of becoming "aware". He vaguely knew that someone was oftentimes in the room with him, watching over him; he'd already become painfully aware that this person wasn't his mother. Tears of anger and frustration would usually accompany him as he finally drifted back to a restless, dreamless sleep.

Images of Rick and his family floated on the periphery of his inner vision. (Where were they? Where was he?) He was probably in a hospital somewhere….except he didn't hear any machinery, and the bed was way too soft, the sheets to smooth for it to be hospital grade. He tried not to think of why he was here by himself, and why nobody had come to visit him yet-except for whoever came to change the sheets, and fix his pillows, and feed him his meals and stick the needle in his arm. Relief always came after that, but it was short-lived; often, he found himself shivering with a sense of utter dread and feverish delusions.

One morning he sat up and looked around. He didn't even think about it; he just sat up in the bed, and rubbed his eyes-and realized with amazement that it hadn't hurt to do that! He could breath without feeling like he was choking, and the nausea, although still slightly present, had lessened to where he was suddenly starving, and he knew he had to get some food-pronto-and not that soft stuff that he'd been force-fed over the past (week? month?) It didn't matter. He was starving _now_.

He surveyed the room his bed was in. It was a simple room, with nothing more than a chair in the corner and a small table by his bedside, and a window where the sun was streaming brightly through, to the point that it hurt enough to bring tears to his eyes: only this time, it was also tears of joy, because Morty had never felt so relieved to be alive.

He wondered if he should get out of bed. He moved to slide off the mattress, but a sharp pain rippled through from his calf to his back, near his spine, and Morty hit the pillow once again with utter defeat. "Great," he muttered to himself. He wasn't going anywhere, it seemed; not yet.

He was about to curl into a ball and sob when the door suddenly opened and footsteps met his eardrums, and Morty looked up with surprise. There was a creature standing over him-a creature with a human face, but feathers that covered from head to toe; the most slender form and a beautiful bust unlike any he'd ever seen, all clad in black leather garb-much like he's seen high school students who were gothic wear (Summer couldn't stand them). In fact, except for her younger, shorter figure, she reminded him exactly of….

…."Bird...person?" Morty mumbled in spite of himself (before groaning and slapping his face in self-disgust). Clearly she wasn't Bird Person, but another version of Bird Person's species.

The bird creature giggled, and smiled at him warmly in a way that made Morty's heart melt. "No….that's my Uncle you're talking about! Hi," she greeted him in a perky way that Morty had never heard Bird Person exhibit, "You can call me Bird Girl," she declared, while placing down the tray with a cup full of some kind of pudding. "It's not my real name, but neither is Bird Person's….our names are like songs but I wouldn't expect you to remember it."

"Oh….," said Morty sheepishly, rubbing his head with embarrassment. He'd never met a Bird Girl before. "You...brought me pudding," he noted, eyeing the food hungrily, licking his lips with unabashed desire for sustenance.

"Yeah," said Bird Girl, "I've been taking care of you, actually….you were….pretty sick when you got here," she added haltingly, and for some reason, not looking directly at him. "Do….you remember what happened?"

"Uhhh….something pretty bad, I guess," managed Morty halfheartedly, still focused on the pudding still sitting on the tray, just waiting for him to devour.

"Do you remember anything before this?" Bird Girl prompted, seeming eager to get his attention, but Morty was too busy hungrily eyeing the pudding. He was quickly noticed, and Bird Person giggled again, and added, "Go ahead, dive in," to which Morty quickly snatched the pudding cup and began pouring it straight down his throat, no need for spoons, thank you.

"Boy," Bird Girl exclaimed, impressed, "you sure were hungry...weren't you?"

"I feel like I could eat a horse!" Morty concurred, to which Bird Girl laughed out loud heartily.

"I'll go tell Uncle that you were awake," she informed Morty.

"Wait-no-don't go!" Morty froze in place, suddenly paralyzed with fear, and Bird Girl stopped at once and turned in the doorway.

"Morty?" Her eyes questioned his sudden demand, but he couldn't speak; his mouth wouldn't work. It opened and closed but no sound came out. "Morty-what is it?" Suddenly she was right there, staring down at him with such compassion, such warmth in her expression, that Morty couldn't help it any longer, and tears filled his eyes and slid down his cheeks.

"Oh…." Bird Girl gasped and, without even asking, abruptly threw her arms around him. "Morty…."

Morty hated himself for crying in front of a girl. It was bad enough he ate like a pig in front of her, and so he tore himself away from her, and scrunched up into a tight little ball full of shame. "G-g-go away," he muttered, cringing at his horrible stutter, but almost too exhausted to care how mortified he was by his own behavior.

"Morty…." Bird Girl sat slowly back down on the mattress, and rested a gentle hand on his shoulder, at which Morty flinched and scrunched up further

He was both relieved and disappointed when she finally got up and left, shutting the door softly behind her.

Bird Person had never seen Rick so completely and utterly wrecked. The man still hadn't regained consciousness, and his face, nearly unrecognizable, was a mess of still oozing scars. Except for a few broken bones here and there, he was relatively still intact...but barely. Bird Person was beginning to consider enlisting an ambulance to take him to the Space Hospital if things didn't improve soon.

Rick not only had a pretty severe concussion, his body was going through heavy alcohol withdrawal. (Luckily Bird Person's planet had a special plant that helped speed up the process of recovery, and he'd been delivering the necessary tonic to Rick via a makeshift IV that his niece (thankfully she was a nurse in training) had expertly inserted into Rick's veins. Rick had also fractured his arm, which was being held up precariously in a sling; Rick's body propped up against several sets of pillows for support.

Rick would pull through; of this much Bird Person was certain. The journey would not be without potholes in the road, however; the tonic was a crutch, but Rick was going to have to limit his alcohol intake (if not quit altogether) if he were to survive, and sadly, Bird Person did not see that happening.

Bird Person rarely felt helpless, but to look at Rick Sanchez and not know what to do was an entirely new kind of situation. Rick Sanchez had always had his back. He was never the kind of friend you could tell your troubles to, but he was always someone that Bird Person could count on. They'd been through a hell of a lot together. He was not going to give up on Rick, not ever...and he knew Rick needed him now more than ever.

There was actually a cure for this kind of situation-except it was a cure that only Rick could supply, and the source came from within. It did not mean shame; nor did it mean giving up completely, and giving in.

The cure was humility.

Humility was still recovering, desperately trying to survive in the bed next door.


	6. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer:** I don't own "Rick and Morty".

 **Author's Note:** So, I'm back! I hope this chapter is a little longer for your tastes! This one is a bit of a ride, including a few twists here and there...Reviews are always appreciated and critique and suggestions for future chapter ideas are always welcome! Also, Please Remember that this story involves a Serious Medical Condition that would require Hospitalization if it was at the level that Rick is at right now. This is after all a cartoon and in real life this Condition of Alcohol Withdrawal, if not handled properly and with the right treatment, can be life-threatening and is to be taken VERY seriously and should be handled by Medical Professionals at all costs! It should *never* be treated at home. By the way, in this chapter, Rick is undergoing some serious Alcohol Withdrawal symptoms here so he may be a bit...ummmm..."out of character", but then again, Morty may be as well...I don't want to give anything away though! Enjoy!

 _Someone screaming…._

… _.a feeling of falling…._

… _.the ground rushing up towards him…._

… _.everything shattered, his body ripped apart, blood flying everywhere, his body beaten, ready to-_

"NOOOO!"

The scream was his own.

Morty sat up in bed, shaking, shivering in the dark. It was some time before he could calm himself enough in order to breath regularly, and even then, he was still shaking. After sitting for awhile hugging himself, his fists turned into balls of rage, and he swung around and beat the pillow, hard, first once, then twice, and yet again, until his body was spent from his anger and frustration.

It had happened again. These fever-dreams, where only vague pieces of imagery danced just beyond his vision. There was the empty void of space, someone shouting incoherently, a feeling of sheer utter terror, then impact, and then...nothing.

He was right back where he started: he couldn't piece it together. Nothing seemed to fit. All he had was his own name, and that he was a human being, and that somehow he'd become marooned on the Bird People planet, and for whatever reason, he couldn't go home. He'd tried to ask why, but when probed with inquiries about his past, Bird Girl, who took care of his wounds, and looked over him from time to time, would remain questionably silent.

Bird Person kept at a distance, and Morty rarely left his room. He was getting sick of eating the strange pudding and salads that had different types of nuts and fruit that he couldn't remember being on Earth (but then again he could hardly recall anything about Earth, anyway).

Then there was the crazy one, the strange man with blue hair that was always dancing on the edge of his periphery, the maniac hiding behind the wings, the one who always found his way into his dreams, but never told his name or why he was always there.

Morty was fed up. He just wanted to go home. He just wanted to see his family again...even if he couldn't remember them from before, just to know who they were. Every day blended into the next, and he was beginning to wonder if he'd ever get to leave. He didn't feel like he belonged here. This wasn't his home.

Tonight, with yet another nightmare, Morty was at his wits' end. That was it: he was going to leave his sanctuary, and march straight into Bird Person's room and demand that Bird Person find a way to take him back home. He knew Bird Person meant well, but Bird Person had his family there with him: his niece and his girlfriend Tammy. He didn't know what it was like to be without a family.

Morty slipped out of bed, his legs feeling like rubber after spending so much time out of use. He slowly, carefully exited the room and made his way down the short hall to the main part of the elaborate birdhouse, which was more like a mansion in the trees, and found himself in the kitchen.

Morty blinked and shook his head, not sure if he was seeing right: the light was already on in the kitchen, and there was someone already in there-rummaging around in the fridge. Dammit, Morty swore silently to himself, if it wasn't Bird Person, he'd have to explain himself, and he wasn't sure how he was going to go about doing that!

He started to creep his way past the figure bent over inside the fridge, and made it all the way to the end of the counter when all of a sudden:

"Wh-who in the Freaking Flip-Flop is creeping around here like a li-litUGHL creepy biatch?"

and Morty froze. He knew that voice. Only….he didn't. But he did. "Sssss-sorry," he blurted out, suddenly unable to move, and the figure turned around slowly towards him, and Morty nearly pissed his pants at the sight of:

the madman! The madman from his dreams, the one with the blue spiky hair, only this one's face was even crazier than the one in his dreams; he had a scar down his forehead almost to his right eye, and his eyes were far more bloodshot, to the point of near bursting, and his skin was a pale sickly green, and Morty nearly fainted from fright…

"...MmmmMoURGHty? Bbbbut youuu're" The slurring madman immediately dropped whatever it was he was carrying, his jaw nearly hitting the floor, eyes bugging out of his head, tongue wagging, looking genuinely surprised...

….And suddenly an eerily clear image sprang forth in his memory...an image of the spaceship hurtling towards the ground, with himself inside, and the Madman at the wheel….

...and something inside Morty snapped like a twig. "YOU did this!" came an inhuman growl, "It was YOU!" In the blink of an eye he was in motion, charging towards the unsuspecting target, the Madman, who shouted in turn, "No, youu're not-" but was unable to finish as the weight of Morty's body barrelling into him threw him off balance and knocked him to the ground, Morty on top of him, screaming blood-curdling murder all the way to the floor, shouting, "YOU did this to me! YOU! It was YOU! AAAAGHHHH!"

Meanwhile his fists couldn't stop slapping the Madman's leathery world-worn face, and he couldn't stop screaming. THIS was the reason he was here; he was sure of it! He was going to beat the madman to a pulp. Maybe then he'd understand the strife and pain that Morty was going through. "You KIDNAPPED me, you almost KILLED me, WHY?! WHY!? WHY, You-you-you-you-you sicko, you PERVERT!" Morty screamed, and suddenly, the room was flooded with light from all directions, and someone was shouting his name, but he didn't care; all he cared about was getting his revenge agianst the person who was to blame for everything, all of it, why he was so messed up, why he was stuck in this strange place without any memory of home.

"MORTY! Get off him!" Bird Girl was there now, shouting at him, pleading with him, but Morty wouldn't listen, and then he felt stronger hands pulling at him, and a deeper voice commanding, "MORTY. This is not the way," and felt his body yanked off of his target against his own will, and he was dragged across the room to where Bird Person was forcing him into submission, holding him down.

"He's a murderer!" Morty screamed, "a-a-a _monster_! What-I don't-I don't _understand_!" Morty cried out as he felt himself breaking down, tears filling his eyes in spite of himself, and he buried his face in his hands, crying out, "What is he doing in your house!?"

"Lllll-lemme a-at that littttle b-bassstard!-"

"RICK! NO! _DON'T_!"

Morty braced himself for impact as he saw the Madman rushing at him, lurching forwards, but was shocked when the sound of Rick's body thrown once again to the floor made his eyes open, and he saw, to his amazement, Bird Person standing over Rick, who was lying on the floor in a daze, glowering up at his defender.

"rrrrr...r-r-r-r-r….reallly, really-" The Madman who Bird Girl had called Rick hacked and spat out a glob of grayish stuff on the floor before he turned back towards Bird Person, who remained standing over him, looking ready for retaliation, but still strangely calm, and the Madman spat again before adding haltingly, eyes narrowed with reserved rage, "et tu, BP? Never thhhhought _you'd_ ttuuurn your b-back on me."

"I have not," replied Bird Person evenly without missing a blink. "You are behaving….unfairly. I will not take sides."

"Yyyeah well screw you, BP. I'm ouuta here." Morty watched silently, stunned, as the Madman managed to push himself back up to a sitting position. Shaking and wobbling, teetering slightly, and Morty realized that the Madman was probably very drunk. He could hardly stay upright, and his irises were large and unfocused. He lurched towards the doorway, adding abruptly over his shoulder, "Ennnjoy your stay with BP, 'Crazy Rrrre _placement_ Mmmmorty'. Hooope you like ea-eaaating bbbbb-birdseed for the rest of your l-l-lllife…"

"I'd r-r-rather be anywhere else than with you," Morty muttered.

"GOOD!" the Madman snapped without taking a beat. "Youuu're bet-better off here anyway….no-noothing out there for you without me."

"You won't get far," Bird Person spoke suddenly.

"Yeeeah, go s-ssssuck a biiiig diiick, youuu ba-ckstabbing biiirdbrain," the Madman spat from over his shoulder and kept walking. "Youuu're lucky I left my tar kit at home. Speaking of which, let me geeet out myyy-whhaaa the hellll-"

"Your portal gun was fried upon impact," Bird Person replied starkly, "and your car is in the shop."

The Madman halted in his tracks, then turned around slowly towards them. "Youu forgot something BP...I'm a mechhhanical geeeniOUGHs," the Madman sneered, tapping lightly on his temple for emphasis, and Morty felt his body tightening with rage, "and I can build a working vehicle out of trash. Immmagine what MoooTHUR Nature will dooo for me, huh? Graandpa's going green, m-fckas! This wholle wooorld's my oyyster, BIATCH….LATER!"

"My property is surrounded by invisible wire," Bird Person declared softly but firmly, "and you will be, for lack of a better word: fried."

"Yeeah welll I'm willing to take my chances on that bluff. See ya." With that the Madman exited the premises, leaving Morty, Bird Person and Bird Girl behind in stunned silence. Bird Girl had moved towards Morty and had a hand placed softly on his shoulder, and finally he felt able to breath with ease again.

Finally Morty was able to find his voice: "Will the wire...umm, really….kill him?" he whispered, surprised he could actually find the right words. Then he kicked himself mentally for asking such a stupid question. Why in Birdworld did he care? He'd rather the Madman see his rightfully deserved end. Then Morty could be free, safe to find his own way home.

His question was met with a small smile on Bird Person's lips, "No," his friend confessed with a stern shake of his head, "he will be….zapped, but, nothing more." With that, Bird Person led Morty over to the window, pointing out towards the moonlit lawn, where the Madman was stumbling with stubborn determination towards the unknown darkness. "Watch," Bird Person commanded, and Morty did:

and he saw, to his surprise, the Madman reach the far side of the lawn and suddenly light up like a Jack o' lantern in the night before toppling over on one side in the grass, motionless.

"He….he's gonna be okay…? But….but why would you let him…"

"Morty." Bird Person took him over to the couch and sat him down. "There's...something you need to understand about Rick. He is a very sick man. There is more."

Morty's whole body tensed and he could feel his brain go numb at the halting sound of Bird Person's voice. Bird Person never faltered. It was what made Morty feel so safe to be around him. He knew he could trust Bird Person. Bird Person was his friend.

"Morty," Bird Person said his name again, and Morty, suddenly afraid, lifted his head towards Bird Person, not sure if he wanted to know what was going to be said next.

"Morty…." This time Bird Person continued his sentence, "Do you know who Rick is?"

"He nearly killed me and left me to die," Morty whimpered, looking down with shame, and suddenly felt his eyes fill with tears. Angry at the tears, he looked sharply away with embarrassment, "he took me away from my family! ALL I want to do, is just, go, home!" Morty curled up into a ball on the couch, hugging himself and wishing everything away.

"Morty," Bird Person sat down beside him adding, "we would have told you sooner, but….Rick is in a….very, bad way….and, while you are in recovery….we thought it would be best, for you two, to be...apart for awhile."

"Why would you have me near him at all?" Morty snapped, glaring up at Bird Person, suddenly feeling betrayed. "He's crazy! He tried to kidnap me! He almost killed me!"

"Morty," Bird Person held his shoulders taught and looked Morty square in the eyes, and Morty swallowed hard, knowing he better listen. "Rick is very significant to you, more than you may realize, now or before you lost sight of his significance." Bird Person looked deeply into Morty's eyes and declared, "Morty, you are both connected in many ways. Most importantly however, is that Rick…."

Morty cringed, bracing himself for the worst,

"...is your grandfather."


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer:** I don't own "Rick and Morty".

 **Author's Note:** So this chapter will be kind of short and sorry about that, but I have to end chapters where I feel they should end...and this chapter kind of sets up the rest of the story, so it's a turning point for sure, and an important read for those who are following this story.

If anything is confusing you here, hang tight-all will be revealed in the future! As always, please R it keeps me motivated, and please PM me with any story ideas, thanks in advance!

More Chapters coming soon. (And less "than a year and a half...or longer").

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Morty was half-expecting some huge revelation, but Bird Person's statement was nothing he didn't know. It didn't make any sense either why Bird Person was making such a big deal about it. It was common knowledge that all Ricks were grandfathers of their Morties. What was the big deal?

"Yeah so what?!" Morty let loose in spite of himself, suddenly furious at not just Bird Person but everyone, "It doesn't make any d-d-d-difference, ya know, if h-h-h-he's my grand-grandpa or not, he's still reeally, you know, a completely horrible person! Does that mean I should, should care about him, j-just because he's my grandfather and, and w-we're related, and all? What about all the st-stuff he did to me ov-over the years?!" Morty was ranting and raving but he didn't care how bad it looked. He had pent up so much rage that he couldn't stop once he started. All the emotions he'd forced down to the pit of his stomach were exploding at once, as he stammered on through gasps of exhaustion, panting from his tirade, "you-you don't get it! He kidnapped me from my fam-family, I don't even know who they are!"

Tears of anguish overflowed but try though he might, Morty couldn't stop them, so he swung around, continuing haltingly, fists clenched into balls of fury,

"He-he treated me like a stupid p-piece of shit, and-ignored me when I wasn't helping him on his, you know, stupid errands, and, and, I went along with it, even when he f-forgot to feed me….b-because….what else was I supposed to do? Where, where was I supposed to go?...I stayed, because, because I was his pr-prisoner, and if I didn't do what he wanted, he, he went crazy! So….so what was I supposed to do?! You know…" Morty felt himself drifting off, letting his exhaustion lull himself into a half-waking, half-dreaming state, adding almost wistfully, "you know...sometimes...I fantasized about...about stealing his portal gun, and getting out on m-my own….and, one time, I actually tried…." Morty shut his eyes as tears fell freely now, "but….but he al-always caught me, and I paid for it...So….so, I-I don't get it-why should I care?"

Spent from the sudden flood of memories coming back, Morty collapsed onto the couch, suddenly unable to keep his head upright, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

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He was woken gently much later by a soft hand on his forehead. He opened his eyes to see Bird Girl, who was caressing his forehead with her fingers, and Morty felt himself welling up at the kindness that she gave him unconditionally. He hoped she hadn't heard his crazy rant before. She probably wouldn't have wanted anything more to do with him. "Bird...Girl…?" Morty mumbled, hardly able to keep his eyelids aloft enough to see her soft and caring smile.

"Shhh," BIrd Girl said tenderly, and he felt a soft wet cloth on his forehead, "try to get some sleep….we'll talk in the morning."

xxxxxxxxxxx

 _The smell of smoke and blood, and cries for help-his own unanswered cries, he realized helplessly-the sound of metal creaking and wheezing, the stench of burning flesh._

" _Rrrrrick…." Morty heard his voice finally, hoarse and barely recognizable, filling his ears with its unending desperation._

 _Again, there was no answer. The sun was getting closer, threatening to burn him to a crisp. He knew Rick couldn't be far away, somewhere amongst the twisted metal and other debris, but he could hardly move._ Okay Morty….one step at a time _….Somehow, he managed to hoist himself up halfway to a sitting position by the palms of his hands, and attempted to half-crawl, half drag his way towards the still smoking wreckage._

 _The smell of blood and coal-charred flesh grew stronger, so strong that it took all of what was left of Morty's willpower to keep the bile from exploding out of his esophegous. He continued forward, his stiffened, non-responsive legs sliding lifelessly along the ground behind him._

 _Shuffling along by one hand, he used his free one to push aside the random pieces of scattered debris, and nearly fainted with relief when he saw a hand-Rick's hand-sticking out from under a piece of jagged metal that had pinned his arm to the ground._

" _RICK!" Morty found his voice at last, and with suddenly renewed vigor, pushed himself towards the man who was his only hope of getting home. He knew Rick was badly injured (how bad, it didn't matter); all Morty cared about was that he had to make sure he could revive Rick and get them both home._

 _His mission was now removing each slab of heavy metal and whatever else had fallen on Rick in the crash, nearly obscuring his whole body from view. Rick still wasn't moving, and with each piece torn away, Morty's heart sank a little quicker. At one point, he came to a halt, because there was a huge pipe sticking straight out of Rick's abdomen, and that was where most of the blood was coming from, and Morty felt his head spinning; he was going to-_

 _Morty braced himself as his body retched dry heaves; he hadn't had anything for breakfast or lunch, and mostly all that came up was bile. His hands shaking, he turned back towards Rick as he felt himself recover, and reached out with trembling fingers towards Rick's face, to remove the last piece of debris-_

 _Morty yelped with horror and let the large piece of glass drop from his hand, shattering on the ground, and a shudder of terrified anguish ripped through him._

 _Only when he felt himself able to breath again, he forced his eyelids open and, to his shocked and unspeakable dismay, was Rick's face-covered with blood-completely torn apart-his body limp and lifeless._

 _A gasp of utter despair gripped Morty like a vice, and an inhuman cry of anguish erupted from the bottomless pit of his soul. Blindly he lurched forward, his hands clutching desperately man who he'd known all his life, who had raised him (and hadn't raised him), who knew him better than anyone else, and who suddenly he needed more than anyone else in the world…._

… _...Morty sobbed like a baby, the world around him falling out of view, until all that he knew was himself and the man whose body was now just a vessel that held his past and everything in it….sobbing until he didn't know himself any more….and darkness was a respite from madness, and loss, and pain…._

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He was still sobbing when he awoke, and saw the sunlight streaming in. Here he was, alive, in Bird Person's birdhouse. How had he made it out alive? How were his legs still working so well? How was Rick still….

Morty shook his head, unwilling to accept the truth. When last he'd seen Rick, he'd been cold-stone….dead….and now, here he was, like nothing at all had happened.

 _It can't be true….how can it be true? Rick was right there, right next door….alive….still messed up, still a maniac, but….alive….._

….and Morty wanted nothing to do with him.

xxxxxxxxxxx

"Summer?" Seeing the light was still on, Jerry poked his head in the door. "You okay, sweetheart?"

Summer was sitting still as a corpse on her bed, looking shell-shocked, and Jerry had an inkling she'd had another one of her nightmares. Without invitation he took a seat on his daughter's bed.

"Oh Daddy…." Summer collapsed into him and threw her arms around his neck, and Jerry, while surprised (she hadn't called him 'Daddy' in a long time) "Where _are_ they?" she whimpered, and Jerry could feel her body shaking, and he tightened his grip on her and rocked her, slowly, and whispered soothing words until she went limp in his arms.

"It's going to be okay sweetheart," Jerry whispered to her sleeping form, as he bent to kiss his daughter softly on the head, before backing away slowly, careful not to wake her, and went off to his own bedroom.

Inside, Beth was sitting up with her laptop, a glass of wine in hand. She looked completely focused on whatever she was reading, and he knew better than to bother her.

She surprised him however when Beth turned towards her husband and said tersely, voice spoken through gritted teeth suppressed with unleashed rage, "I'm trying to look up what to do when you have an Intergalactic "Amber Alert" situation but I haven't found shit and you can bet we're putting Dad in a damn good rehab because he's going to sure as hell get his act together if he's going to stay with us again!" With that Beth slammed the lid of the laptop shut and stalked off with her glass of wine-surely, Jerry presumed, to replenish it with more.

Jerry shook his head with disgust, both at Rick for doing such an unspeakable thing and at himself for letting it happen. Too tired to make any of his own attempts at solving this puzzle, Jerry let himself drift off to sleep, but he didn't dream, and he didn't wake at all rested.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer:** I don't own "Rick and Morty".

 **Author's Note:** So, here's another chapter! And, this one has a couple of major twists in it...see if you can figure it out before Morty does! (hehe.)

Also, I've been inspired by several fandom theories on different aspects of the show for this story. So, if you've been following the fandom, you probably won't be surprised by any of this….

….probably.

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Morty had never experienced a hangover, but he imagined this must be what it felt like.

The first rays of sun were still streaming in, painfully blinding him, and if he weren't so desperately hungry, he would have remained contentedly under the covers.

Except if he stayed under the covers, his stomach gnawing at him endlessly, he probably would have fallen back asleep, and that was the very last thing-after last night's nightmare-that he wanted to do.

He was hoping that Bird Girl was awake so that he could thank her; if it wasn't for her, things would have been so much worse. At the same time, her kindness troubled him, because each caress almost felt like a mother's loving touch, and Morty had never experienced a loving mother's touch. He wasn't sure why but it scared him, and he hated being scared. (He wasn't a child any longer; a child wouldn't have made it this far.)

He was a bit disappointed to find not BIrd Girl but Bird Person sitting at the kitchen table. "Where is everybody?" Morty mumbled sleepily.

"They will return soon." Bird Person was reading what looked like a newspaper and spoke softly without looking up. "Tammy is visiting her parents; her mother is ill with human pneumonia. My niece is out and in search of a tonic for Rick."

"Oh…" Morty felt the anger rising, but thankfully, it subsided as quickly as it came, and he joined Bird Person at the table. "C...can I a-ask you something, Bird, uh, Person?" Morty spoke with his eyes on the tablecloth. "...Why...are you helping him? RIck is...uh...pretty, uh…" Morty tried to search for the best word. "...he's pretty...well... _evil_...you know?"

"Morty…," Bird Person began, then stopped and put the newspaper away. "Wait here. I would like to show you something."

Morty had never felt so nervous as he watched BIrd Person leave for parts unknown. His heart thumping wildly in his chest, he could feel the saliva gathering in his mouth, his stomach lusting even for the round, plump, twisted-looking purple fruit on the table, but he knew better than to take without asking.

Finally Bird Person returned. Upon seeing Morty hungrily eyeing the bowl in the center of the table, Bird Person snatched the piece of fruit and placed it into Morty's hands. Relieved, Morty stuffed his mouth full, juice dribbling recklessly down his chin with abandon, and Bird Person smiled warmly, pleased that Morty was happy with his offerings.

Once Morty had finished, still trying to wipe off the juice from his chin (to no avail), Bird Person waved him over to the couch, and Morty noticed he had some kind of a book in his hand.

"What's that, uh, you have, there?" Morty pointed warily at the book, but quickly sat down next to Bird Person, his curiosity overcoming him in spite of himself.

"A photo album," Bird Person replied, and Morty noticed an expression on his companion's face that he had never seen before-one filled with both nostalgia and, if Morty had to guess, a hint of sadness underlying the mysteriously wistful smile. "I want you to learn something about me….and yourself."

Now Morty was really curious but afraid at the same time. (Why would Bird Person have any pictures of _him_?) Meanwhile, Bird Person was flipping slowly but decisively through the massive book. Old dusty black and white photos of a much younger Bird Person and his family flew by, and Morty was surprised by how many different members of his family Bird Person seemingly had. Then, Bird Person came to a page that made Morty's heart nearly stop cold.

There on the page was Rick. With Bird Person. They were both smiling, arms clasped like brothers on each others' shoulders, beaming with pride at the camera. That wasn't all, however: there was Bird Person and Rick building a flying contraption of some kind, one that had gigantic metal leaves for wings-and Rick testing said contraption, and Rick holding up a Medal of Honor, chest puffed out with unabashed self-confident accomplishment, and Bird Person smiling with quietly-reserved pride in the background.

"Wait-what?!" Morty gasped with bewilderment, "you and Rick were... _friends_!? But….how...when... _why_?"

"None of that should matter," Bird Person stated calmly. "What matters is that he and I were...and...are friends."

"But-he's-he's a lunatic!" Morty exploded, beside himself with disgust and astonishment, "how could you be friends with that-with-with that-murderer?!"

"Morty," Bird Person interjected, "look, and you shall understand."

"WHAT! Why would I e-e-e-e-e-eeeven begin to under-"

Morty blinked. There on the page in front of him, was Rick, holding up a beaming, happy child. And that child was-

-himself!

Morty gasped, appalled, mortified beyond reason, wondering how he could have been so stupid to have ever trusted Rick-

-but then, in the next photo, he was….

….older? and…. _smiling_!

"WHA….Wait-I don't," Morty panted, eyes wide as he looked at both the book and then at Bird Person, whose grim, all-knowing stare was giving him chills up and own his spine, "I don't...understand!...What-what does any of this- _mean_!?"

He was staring at a picture of himself and Rick, in front of a yellow house in the suburbs, and Rick's hand was rested proudly on Morty's (his?) shoulder. Morty shook his head. "This...this is _madness_! Rick's-Rick's not my friend! He's-he's a lunatic! He's horrible, a maniac, a-a-a-a-" Morty was losing it. He held his face in his hands, his palms sweaty from uncertainty. Nothing made sense anymore. He was walking around in circles, gaping at Bird Person, whose neutrally focused expression had not changed.

"Morty," Bird Person's ever-calm voice sliced through the broken circuits in his brain, "think about how Rick was the last you saw him." Morty halted in his tracks, his back to Bird Person, his eyes facing the wall: right in front of him, Rick was proudly holding up a frightened baby in his arms. That baby was wearing a yellow shirt. _Exactly_ like his own.

"I don't remember any of this," Morty mumbled, his eyes stinging with tears. "Am I dreaming? Is any of this real? Am-am I going crazy?" He couldn't take his eyes off of Rick's face in the photograph. It was filled with what could only be described as a father's (loving?) pride.

A firm yet gentle hand on his shoulder steadied him. "Morty," Bird Person spoke softly from above him, "not all Ricks are crazy." Bird Person lowered his voice and added, "And...neither are Morties."

And then it hit Morty, hit him like a ton of bricks, and he ran from the room and collapsed on his bed, sobbing into the pillow with abandon. This wasn't his Rick. His Rick was gone. He was never coming back, and Morty would never be punished and forced to suffer ever again.

He'd made it through. He had survived.

It was a completely clean slate…..

…..except Morty had no idea where to begin.


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer:** I don't own "Rick and Morty".

 **Warning:** Suicide.

 **Author's Note:** Where are all my readers? I really do need some feedback on this one, guys….I'm not sure if I should add another chapter after this….if you have any kind of feedback, that would really help….hope Rick is in character for this chapter enough….he's not exactly himself, which made it very challenging….

Please show some love! It's what helps keep me motivated sometimes. I really do appreciate it! Let me know what you think of this and previous chapters. It seems that nobody's read beyond Chapter 5, and that kind of makes me sad….:-/ So, please Read and Review and if you've read it, say something!

Also remember to get out those tissues.

Enjoy! ~Sillycritter

"MoUGHrty. I know you won't remember this."

Morty, in his bed, heard the voice stirring his consciousness out of REM sleep, but he felt for sure he must be dreaming. Rick rarely spoke to him directly without giving him a command of some sort. This couldn't be Rick. Except it did sound a lot like him.

He kept still and didn't open his eyes. (Maybe if he did, his brain would stop playing tricks on him).

"Mooorty….I doUNGH't expect you to trUGHst me afffter all that shhhIUGHT that othher R-Rick put you throughh….Youuu were j-Jughst a k-kid, and-and n-n-no kid should ever have to ennndure that kind of shhit. You pr-probably don't waUNGHT anything to d-do with me, and, cann't say that I blame you, I-I've done HORRIBLE thiunghs, M-Mooorty, thhings you wouldn't even beleive the enoURGHmity of….annd normally I'd disagree, b-but, you're absolutely right, I _am_ a murrrderer, and a llunatic, that's in our nature as Ri-Ricks, Moorty….it-it's just the-the way it is…"

Morty tried not to listen, to close out the words, because Rick would never say these things. It just wasn't like him to do so. He felt himself twinge a bit as Rick's voice broke with the next few words. "I-it's innnevitable that all M-MoooUGHrties will become irrevocably f-cked up by, by their Ricks, Mooourghty. And the-there isssn't anything I can d-do about it, Mmmorty, that, it's just a p-part of life...and...if it isn't….you get-getting killed becaUGHs of me, Mor-Morty, iiiit'll be som-something else, may-maybe you'll get eat-eaten, or you'll con-contract some incUGHrible sp-space disease….either way...Mor-Morties have a ter-terrible fate….and….I wish that I could ch-change things, Morty...but...it's the way of the Counsel, Morty, and the nature of Ricks...Ricks everywere…."

This had to be some kind of fever dream, Morty figured, because since when had Rick ever exhibited any kind of remorse for his actions? Morty refused to believe he was awake. His mind felt crystal clear, and everything felt so damn real...but this couldn't possibly be Rick talking...Rick didn't feel any guilt or shame. '

"So...so I'm gonna d-do you a s-solid for once, Mooorty, and, I'm go-going away….for good...and, d-don't worry about me….I'll be fine where I'm going…B-believe me, MOrty...it-it's just better this way…."

Morty pressed his eyelids tighter against his irises, his heart thumping wildly inside his chest, feeling like his throat might burst, but he couldn't respond; even if he might try, he didn't even know what to say. There was nothing to say.

"I-it didnt work the first time, Moughrty, but, this time it-it will...and...I know you'll think I'm a cOWard Mourghty, and….truth is, I _am_ a coughward Morty….a big diiick sucking cOWard...you know...because...all of this, you being so fcked up, is...is because of my re-recklessnss...and...the U-Universe allready has enough Ricks in it...so….this won't be an-any _real_ major loss….you-you'll find another Rick, Mourghty, th-the _right Rick,_ one who's not as messed up as I am….and...and you'll just be a much, much happier Mourght because of it, M-Morty...you'll be the M-m-Mortiest Morty there can be."

Morty nearly flinched as he felt wetness on his cheek, as a hand was placed lightly on his head, and he couldn't remember anyone ever resting a hand on his head before, it felt like something a father would do, and he suddenly realized that the wetness wasn't from him, it was from Rick, whose face was now above his own, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on his forehead.

"B-be a goOUGHd kid, M-moorrty…." Rick pat his head again, once, then twice, before adding huskily, "d-don't ever try to be me."

And it was then that Morty felt the bulge in his throat expand so far it was almost impossible to prevent it from bursting. He remained perfectly still as he listened to Rick's half-shuffling, half-trudging footsteps retreat towards the doorway.

And then his eyes burst wide open with shock and disbelief, because he knew at once he wasn't dreaming, and that Rick had basically just dictated to him….

….a _suicide_ note?!

Gasping with shock, Morty threw the covers off of his bed and, in a blind panic, burst through the door of his bedroom into the hallway. He could see the light to Rick's room filtering out through the half-open doorway, and the jarring sound of a _Click,_ and, panting from panic, he charged into Rick's room.

Rick was sitting upright on his bed, his lab coat fully donned, his back towards Morty. "R-rrrRICK!" Morty shouted, "NO! DON'T!" and raced towards the bed as Rick held the ray gun up to his scalpel, ready to fire….

"WHA-THE!" Rick was not suspecting Morty to knock the loaded ray gun from out of his hands, and the ray gun went off, firing laser light in all directions, blasting holes in the wall of Bird Person's guest bedroom, and Rick was on the floor, trying to fight Morty off of him, but Morty wouldn't have it, he was not done with this fight.

Rick was grunting wildly trying to scramble towards the ray gun, but Morty, who it seemed had sudden superhuman strength, had twisted him into a tizzy, and once Rick was an arm-length's distance from the gun, Morty did the only thing he could do: he sank his teeth into Rick's hand.

" _M-thr_ -f-fckr!" Rick howled in pain as he withdrew his hand from Morty's mouth, his whole entire body cringing from the unexpected attack, "you-you little dick-dickless B-Bastard!" Glaring daggers at Morty, Rick lunged at the Ray Gun which was now on the floor by the bed, but Morty was smaller and quicker, and managed to snake it away just seconds before Rick clasped his palm around it, and before Rick could make any more moves, Morty gripped his hand around the gun and, as Rick came towards him, shot the last rounds into the air.

"OH you I-IDIOT! You M-MORON, you im- _imbicile_ , -You y-y-y- _you l-l-l-l-little mfckr, y-y-y-you stupid b-b-b-ast-_ " Rick couldn't finish his sentence in time before Morty brought the gun down in a swinging motion, making impact with Rick's face.

Rick went out like a light, and this was when Bird Person and Bird Girl burst into the room in tandem, stopping in utterly speechless horror at the sight before them: Rick, unconscious (yet again) on the floor with an already swelling eye.

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Rick woke hours later late into the night to the soothing feeling of a lukewarm washcloth on his forehead, gently wiping his face. Slowly, Morty's still slightly-blurred face came into view, and all Rick could do was blink with exhaustion and bewilderment. Morty...his face didn't show any kind of resentment...and he was still there.

"...Why….?" was all Rick could somehow manage.

"Oh c'mon," Morty shrugged as he continued to gently cleanse Rick's face, "all Ricks need their Morties….and all Morties need their Ricks."

"...Re-really?" Rick muttered, shaking his head and cringing with disgust,"Y-you're m-more of an i-idiot than I thought, 'Unbelievably Foolish and Hopelessly Optomistic M- _Morty'._ "

Morty couldn't help but smile at that, and took Rick's subsequent silence for the rest of the time he was there as an unsaid 'thank you'. It was better than nothing.

It was a start.


	10. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer:** I don't own "Rick and Morty".

 **A/N:** So, here it is, the last chapter! And, a long one! Chock full of feels...You have been warned.

 _I can't believe it,_ Morty thought with disbelief and amazement, _I'm flying Rick's spaceship!_

It was unbelievably surreal, but there they were, whizzing through space, with Morty at the controls, with Rick patiently instructing him at every twist and turn, learning what buttons to press, and which levers to pull. It was actually, Morty realized to his delight, really very easy, and he was amazed that he could fly at all, let alone that Rick would let him.

Funny how driving a spaceship could be the easier part. It was trusting this Rick, and remembering how hard his Rick had been on him, that was the tough part. Morty took a quick sideways glance at his instructor, who seemed especially alert today, now that Rick had eliminated all toxic substances and was, it appeared, actually alcohol-free for the first time in a long time, and Morty wasn't sure what to think about it all. He'd never known Rick as anything but an abusive alcoholic drunk and drug addict, but this Rick seemed to want to change. He knew nothing about this Rick except for what Bird Person had told him, and while he yearned to know more, he knew better than to push it. (Ricks never liked to talk about their past.)

"Controls Morty! Keep, keep your eyes on the horizon! the horizon, Morty! The horizon!"

 _Whoops!_ Morty nearly let his daydream veer them into a passing asteroid. With expert reflexes, Morty swerved quickly to the left, and the ship righted itself once again. Both he and Rick let out a huge breath of relief.

"Y-you nearly turned us into s-space dust Morty! Try not to lose control of my b-baby again and, and remind me why I trusted your lous, lousy ass to begin with, with this thing…" Rick's head was drooping listlessly onto his chest, and, much to Morty's relief, his grumbling lecture seemed to have ended, and a buzz-saw-like snore erupted from out of him instead. Morty grinned to himself with relief. This Rick might be crazy, but compared to his Rick, he was totally harmless, and the natural tonic that Bird Girl had given him to combat the withdrawal symptoms were (thankfully) finally taking their hold.

Bird Girl….Morty's stomach dropped slightly at the thought of her, and the ache of missing her hit him all over again. He had only left Bird Person's nest an hour or so before, and he was already regretting not having at least….well…given her a hug, or, or, or..or .something….Once again, an asteroid crossed their path suddenly, so close that Morty had to swerve yet again as they nearly collided, missing the meteor by mere seconds. Phew. It was amazing how many close calls he'd met, and still somehow made it out alive, again.

Morty took another glance at Rick, who was completely oblivious to the fact that they'd nearly had yet another mortal disaster. What he doesn't know won't hurt him, Morty figured wisely. Morty had bigger things to worry about anyway, like what he was going to do when he saw his family….

…..for the very first time.

Rick had told him a little bit about them: "Okay. So, remember, in this Earth dimension, C-137, you and I met a few years ago. Your Dad, Jerry, is an idiot. Your Mom, my daughter uh Beth, she's got my genes and my intelligence, but her mom's genes stupidly married your Dad and, as an afterthought, decided to forgo Science to become a veterinary surgeon. Your sister Summer-"

"Wait-wait a second-I have a _sister_?" Morty gaped at him. He'd never even considered this a possibility before.

"Yep you do, her name is Summer, about as obnoxious a name as names go and reaaal fitting for her carbon-copy personality. Basically the reason your parents stayed together before you came along. _Biiiiig_ mistake there. Your mom couldn't go through with the abortion. And unfortunately all she's got to show for this sacrifice is a stuck-up teen who's your average 'dumb blonde', and yeah, she definitely lives up to the name. In fact," Rick added dryly without batting an eye, "she's pretty boring. Best to ignore her. You've got better things to do with your time."

"But...I…." Morty was still wide-eyed at the thought of being a sibling. He'd always imagined himself an only child. "I have a….a _sister_ ….?"

"Better get over it real fast Morty; she's family whether you like it or not. Basically par for the course when it comes to relatives. I had to do it when I met your dad. You can do it too."

"What….uh...does my dad do?" Morty was still reeling from the fact that he had a sister, but he was dying to know more, and couldn't help himself. (He also wanted to know if he and Summer got along, but he was too afraid to ask.)

"Pretty much an out-of-work stay-at-home deadbeat." Rick gave a lackadaisical shrug.

"He….doesn't have a job?" Morty tried hard to steer while trying to get ahold of his emotions all at once. He was, in truth, a little disappointed; he'd hoped his father would be….what? Morty wasn't sure. He had no idea what to expect. "Wha...what does he do all day then?"

"Hell if I know," Rick shrugged again. "He loves to annoy the shit out of everyone. Just plan to be prepared."

" _Jeeze,_ Rick….this is …this is really a lot to think about all at once, you know…" Morty felt a little ill. He wondered what it would be like to see his family, to meet them, to….Morty felt his lip quiver a bit. He hoped that they would like him.

"Oh come on Morty. They're just your, your family, ya know, no big deal, they're, they're just there, is, is all...just...just _there_ …" Rick's hand, pointing at his face, dropped mid-stance and landed on his hip, before slipping off altogether. Rick had fallen asleep again.

Morty gritted his teeth as he steered them for home.

 _Home._ It would be strange to think of anything but the old Rick's laboratory as home. Except, like this Rick said, he would simply have to get used to it. C-137 was his dimension now, too.

xxxxxxxxxxx

Thankfully, Rick woke up in time and took over the landing, and Morty looked around him in wonder as they came to a rest in the driveway of the quaint suburban neighborhood that the Smiths called home.

" _Heeeeer_ we are," Rick announced simply, as he cut the engine, and popped the lid of the spaceship. Morty jumped out immediately, full of awe as he took in the new environment. Here was his house: a perfect yellow house with a neatly mowed lawn, just like the ones he'd read about in storybooks, and the tree-lined streets he'd always imagined in his dreams.

" _Wow_ ," Morty breathed.

"Yeah yeah," Rick rolled his eyes with disgust as he shoved Morty roughly up the walkway, "Suburbia. It's gross. Now stand up and swallow back your eyeballs there, and don't get too lost in the chocolate factory, or Mr. Wonka's gonna take away your ticket, got it?"

Morty quickly straightened himself up as they reached the front door. There was a knocker but Rick buzzed, once, and kept his finger on the buzzer until an angry voice bellowed from the other side of the door, "ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! JUST A MINUTE! I'M COMING!"

"Remember," Rick whispered quickly in Morty's ear, "story goes we crashed and I nursed you back to health in spite of nearly dying myself and oh yeah, I'm also sober now, I quit drinking, that's why we've been away for a whole month, we were in a space detox and we weren't allowed to contact you by any means whatsoever because like the doctors told us, get any family members involved and the program wouldn't work-"

"DAD…..!?" Beth stood gaping in the doorway at her father and son. They looked a bit worn for the wear, and her father had a _terrible_ -okay, downright _terrifying_ -scar that began right above his eyebrow and cut straight down to his jawbone, and Morty….he looked….okay enough, but….

She snapped out of it. There they were: her father and her son, home, safe, and-THERE! "DAD! Oh my GOD! MORTY! You're BACK! You're HERE, you're OKAY! OH MY GOD THANK GOD YOU'RE _HOME_!" She ran towards them without a thought and threw her arms around her father, nearly knocking him over, Rick so blindsided by the hug that was nearly choking him to death. Finally she released and, as Rick struggled to regain his breath (and his composure) she flew at Morty, who, terrified, backtracked, but to no avail.

"MORTY!" Beth wept against his shoulder, her hair nearly getting caught in his mouth in the process, and Morty could hardly breath, but he didn't care, this was his mother, the one who had given him life, and he was overwhelmed with feelings, joy and confusion and sadness all at once, and feelings he didn't even know could be, and he felt himself breaking down into her, all the tears he'd cried at night longing to be held by someone who cared, who loved him, and here she was, finally, there, in his arms, hugging him, holding him like she'd never let him go.

"Oh dear God Morty…." Beth held him back as she spoke huskily, her eyes brimming with love and tears, "are you okay? What happened? Are you...are you hurt? Where were you?"

"More on that later," Rick muttered, "don't worry, it's all good, Beth-"

"WHAT WERE YOU THINKING!?" Beth's hand came flying from out of nowhere and was now blasting him repeatedly on the shoulders and head, and Rick was ducking and failing to get out of her way, "You KIDNAPPED him, my SON and you were gone for a whole f*cking MONTH, DAD! What in the hell were you THINKING!"

"Beth I-"

"Don't 'Beth I' me!" Beth thundered, just as Jerry stepped quickly into view, and Rick, wheezing and gasping for breath, straightened up as quickly as he could to regain his composure and prepare his best deliverance.

"Jerry," Rick greeted coolly.

Jerry was glaring daggers at Rick. "Rick," Jerry returned coldly, then, turned abruptly to face Morty.

Morty's eyes filled with tears at the sight of his father. His father looked like he'd imagined he would: brown hair, blue eyes, a little shorter than Rick, and a lot like him. "Dad," he managed to squeak out, and rushed towards his father, throwing his arms around his waste.

"Oh Morty, thank goodness you're safe!" Jerry's own eyes filled at his son's embrace, and somehow managed to hold back a sob as he swiftly bent down to kiss his son on the forehead, "Where were you all this time? Did Rick hurt you?" Jerry asked thickly, looking up at Rick and glaring through his tears.

Rick rolled his eyes and remained silent, waiting for Morty's explanation.

"NO!" Morty exclaimed, shaking his head furtively, confused by Jerry's anger, "we nearly collided with an asteroid, and, and if it weren't for Rick, we would have died! Then Rick saved me, and, and we wound up on this planet that, uh, it happened to have this space hospital, and Rick got me there, and then he went through detox, and, he's clean, Mom, Dad, he-he-he's sober, really, for the first time in, like, years!"

Jerry listened carefully to his son's tale. He stared deeply into his son's eyes. He looked deeply into Rick's dulled irises. Jerry could see that Morty had forgiven his father-in-law, and that was noble for what it was, but Morty was young. Rick had a lot more apologizing to do. "You expect me to believe all of that?" Jerry shook his head with disgust. "I bet he fed you that load on the way over here didn't he?" The whole while he didn't remove his eyes as they were deadlocked with Rick's. "You really expect me to let him back in here after he just-"

"I believe you Dad." Beth's voice interjected, and it seemed all the anger had disappeared in the blink of an eye. She held her hand out to her father. "Would you two like to come in for dinner? Summer is over at a friend's house. She'll be home soon. I'm cooking up a chicken. Lemon, Dad," she smiled at him with tears still shining in her eyes, as she gave her father a kiss on his stubbled cheek, "your favorite."

"Yeah sure why not," Rick shrugged without batting an eyelid, "just as long as it's nothing you brought home from work this evening. I'm starving!" With that, he pulled a stunned and staring Morty along after him and into the house.

"What, really?" Jerry's shoulders slumped in unison with shock and disappointment. "You're...just going to….forgive him? Just like….that?"

"Yeah, Jerry," Beth nodded with amusement as she shut the door behind them, " _just like that_."

She left him there in the foyer, still confused, still unable to get any answers, realizing he probably never would.

xxxxxxxxxx

A week had passed for Morty C-128 in his new home on Dimension C-137. Life was strange, but also, surprisingly…..(dare he say it?...) Good! He and Rick went on errands for Rick's inventions, but when he went with this Rick, they weren't errands. They were fun! They traveled through all different kinds of planets and across all different kinds of dimensions, and met all new crazy different types of creatures that Morty had only thought existed in his dreams. Sometimes they just went out for fun, too, like to the movies or out for ice cream or a night at the arcade called Blips and Chitz. And he got to fly the spaceship anytime he wanted. _I could sure get used to this._

Morty couldn't believe it, but Rick C-137 was actually _fun._ He never wanted these adventures to end. He couldn't believe this was his life now. It was wild and wonderful and full of endless possibilities. He woke up every morning with hope in his heart instead of dread in his chest. He felt full of anticipation for what the new day would hold.

Sometimes, after one of their journeys, Rick would pull him into the living room and set up the Interdimensional Cable box, where they would get to watch television from every dimension imaginable. One day was particularly memorable.

That evening a newscaster had appeared, declaring excitedly, "NOW HEAR THIS! We have just gotten it in that an ENTIRE UNIVERSE has been SAVED! We wish to thank Morty Smith, of Earth K-19, for his valiant efforts to prevent the dimension-wide genocide that would have surely resulted in absolute destruction. We have Morty on the phone with us now. Mr. Smith, you have just saved countless numbers of species from extinction. What would you like to tell our viewers?"

A Morty looking a bit disheveled but still intact appeared on the screen, and Morty's breath hitched in his throat as he saw and listened to his own voice speak on the intercom video, "Um...well….I would love to, to uh, take all the credit for this victory, but, you know, it just wouldn't, wouldn't be true, because, I couldn't have done any of this without the help of my Gran-Grandpa, Rick Sanchez."

"Rick Sanchez? THE Rick Sanchez is your grandfather? That's-but that's _incredible_!" the newscaster was overjoyed with excitement, "what a duo Ladies and Gentleman! Mr. Smith and Mr. Sanchez, the mastermind who was behind the plan that saved our Earth from self-destruction! This is incredible! Ladies and Gentleman, I'm going to need some water, please, please excuse me-"

Morty was just wiping a tear away when the television abruptly shut off. "Hey!" Morty exclaimed, "what-why'd you do that? I, I was really enjoying that, Rick!"

"A humble Morty is the best Morty," Rick declared stiffly. "Pride _alllways_ goeth before the fall."

"What-what does that mean?" Morty rounded on him angrily. "You-you had no right to do that! I'm turning it back on!"

He reached out for the controller but Rick managed to snag it away before his fingers even touched grazed it. "Go outside and be a kid Morty," Rick ordered darkly. "It's still light out. Good time of day to ride your bike a few blocks, tire your little lungs out, make sure you get a good night's rest, then wake up tomorrow and do it all over again." Rick stood up, control in hand and, as Morty watched seething, took the flask out that had Bird Person's tonic, and took a swig. "Hey," Morty shouted, "You just don't want to believe that Ricks can be, can be good, you, you know? Well, they can be Rick!" Morty scrambled after his grandfather who was heading briskly for the garage. "It's true, it was on the screen! We just saw it!"

Rick swung around stopping Morty in his tracks, and held up his hand ruptly, "Don't believe everything you see, Morty…." Rick lowered his hand and looked his young grandson in the eyes, remembering a time when he, too, still had that hope inside. "The universe is a trickster, Morty," Rick informed his grandson, "and, it's getting trickier, soon, it'll be so tricky, you won't know if it's the universe that's tricked you, or your own hollow mind."

Morty simply blinked at Rick, and Rick knew his grandson didn't get it. He wouldn't get it until it was too late.

Rick left then, slipping into the garage. He took his favorite spot at his workbench. He lifted the flask from his lab coat and took a swig, but not before holding it up to the air in a manner of toasting, "To the most ' _Mortiest_ Morty'….Shall thy noble deeds never be forgotten, forever and ever a hundred years," and let the soothing liquid slide down his throat, like a balm to his insides and settling a warmth in his stomach that he'd missed for far too long. Good thing he'd remembered that pile Jerry didn't know about in his hidden lair in the sub-basement. They all thought he was finishing off that stupid tonic Bird Person had given him, and while it had done the trick for some time, there was no going back now, now that Morty C-136...C-137?….was gone.

"You were a dime-a-dozen, Mortimer," Rick said to the flask. "A _dime-aaaa-dozen_." He felt his eyelids drooping, and soon the sleep would come, and a welcome respite from his memories. The nightmares were getting lesser now, and soon, they would be forgotten. Just like all those Ricks who should have died in the crash. Just like all those Morties whose collars didn't work.

Maybe this Morty would be different from all the others. Maybe he would be smarter. Maybe he would realize, once and for all, that no matter what, Ricks just weren't worth saving.

 **~~ FIN~~**

 **A/N:** So, yeah….depressing ending overall, but, life's not perfect, and, we all know that, with most things, they don't magically get better overnight….hope you can forgive me for this touch of realism….I never said this would have a happy ending….but hey, Morty got a happy ending, right? RIGHT? ;-/

I also wish I could have found a way to add Summer into this ending but it just didn't feel right for some reason. I might do a follow-up fic about how Morty handles the new dimension and getting to know his family and separate from his past.

….I would have done this myself but don't feel confident enough to do it. I would love to commision a fic in which Rick attends Intergalactic AA…..any takers?


End file.
